Falling is Like This: Part I
by Dahlia
Summary: Confusion and lust torment Rosaline, a 7th yr. Gryffindor, as she finds herself inexplicably attracted to her Potions' professor.
1. Confusion

**_Disclaimer: All concepts, creations and characters from the Harry Potter universe belong to J.K. Rowling…which I'd hope you know.  So please, don't sue. However, Rosaline Staunton and Anne Prescott are mine, as are any other characters who happen to turn up along the way. The title for this fic is the name of an Ani DiFranco song. It's good. Listen to it. _**

**_Rating: PG-13 for now – bad language. It's gonna raise when I get to the juicy bits…whee!_**

**_Spoilers: Yup. Oodles._**

**_A/N: This is my first fic, so I'm not really sure how it's going to turn out…please, be gentle – feel free to review, but I'd really prefer some constructive criticism as opposed to just a whole lotta flames. It's going to end up being a Snape/OFC, so if you, for god knows what reason, are not obsessed with the amazingly sexy potion's master….piss off. ^_^_**

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**_CHAPTER 1: CONFUSION_**

Rosaline Staunton closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose wearily. The potion was entirely the wrong colour. Usually she did very well in potions, deriving satisfaction from the delicate precision required of the art, an aspect which appealed to the perfectionist in her. 

Sighing, she ran her hands through her unmanageable dark brown hair and glared at the ugly yellow liquid simmering quietly in the cauldron. Her close friend and fellow 7th year Gryffindor, Anne Prescott, frowned at the recipe.

"Ros, I know we did it right…I don't understand what's wrong…" the blonde mumbled.

Rosaline peered over Anne's shoulder at the list of ingredients, and stuck her finger out at the sheet of parchment suddenly. "Shit! Annie, we forgot the ginger." Rosaline sighed and looked around their desk. Glowering in frustration, she dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under the table.

"Hah! I found it Annie, the bloody root must have fallen on the floor," she said triumphantly, backing out from under the desk. Standing up, Rosaline dusted her robes off. "We can just get rid of this batch and start again, between the two of us we can…" Rosaline's voice trailed off as she turned around, coming face to face with a wall of black cloth. Sighing, yet again, she looked up to face the sneering potions master.

_'It's just one of those days,' she thought to herself while trying to smile weakly up at Snape._

"Miss Staunton," he purred, "I don't recall instructing the class to prepare their ingredients on the floor."

Rosaline frowned and held up the ginger as if it were a talisman with which she could dispel the man in front of her.

"I dropped the ginger…we're just working on finishing up our potion now…" Rosaline trailed off quietly, realising the futility of lying as Snape glanced over her shoulder at the discoloured potion still simmering in the cauldron. He turned his attention back to the girl, looking down at her with an unpleasant smirk on his face.

"Oh really? Pity ginger was the third ingredient you were to add. Or am I mistaken in assuming your utter lack of competence? Perhaps you've discovered a more efficient method of brewing Confusim draught?" he murmured.

Rosaline's face darkened as she matched Snape's glare, her changeable green eyes never leaving his black ones.

"No,_ sir, I have not discovered a more efficient method of brewing Confusim draught," she growled, her voice tinged with sarcasm, "though when I do, you'll be the first to know."_

The dark man stared down at her with surprise for a moment before his face twisted in anger. "10 points from Gryffindor for your sudden ineptitude at potions and 20 more for disrespect," he hissed, "and if you ever take the tone with me again, Miss Staunton, I'll have you scrubbing the dungeons on your hands and knees for a month."

Snape turned abruptly and stalked off to the other side of the classroom to harass a Hufflepuff whose cauldron appeared to be spewing hot pink sparks.

Anne stared at the furious Rosaline in amazement. "Ros…what were you _thinking?! I thought he was gonna__ kill you!"_

Rosaline glared silently at the back of Snape's greasy head for a second before turning back to her friend, grimacing with displeasure. "You know me Annie…I was never very good at taking his shit to begin with, and I'm starting to get fed up with it." Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Rosaline waved her wand at the cauldron, dispelling the botched potion.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Curled up in a very plush easy chair, Rosaline stared blankly at the fire in the Gryffindor common room. It was still early in the day, but she and Annie had no class this period. Her friend was sitting in a chair beside Rosaline, watching her with concerned brown eyes.

"Ros…" Annie started timidly, unsure of how to proceed. Rosaline stirred from her reverie and smiled at the worried girl.

"I'm okay Annie, really. I'm just getting very tired of that bastard treating his students the way he does," Rosaline shook her head, and frowned at the hardwood floor, "Can we go for a walk? I'm tired of sitting here…I'd like to stretch my legs."

Annie smiled faintly and nodded as the two girls got up and headed out of Gryffindor tower, "Of course Ros…I just want to be sure you're alright. I mean, I know you have a temper," she grinned wickedly for a moment, "not to mention a talent for producing nasty comebacks and sarcastic remarks, but I've never known you to be disrespectful to a professor like that."

Rosaline stared quietly in front of her walking towards the front entrance of Hogwarts. "I know Annie…I've just been feeling a little odd lately. I'm not really sure if I know how to explain it exactly…" giving her friend a somewhat embarrassed look, Rosaline started to speak quietly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Anne stared at Rosaline in abject horror as the girls sat on the front steps of the castle, in front of the open doors.

"You're attracted to SNAPE?!"

Rosaline glared at Anne. "Could you please _shut up?" she hissed, "For fuck's sake Annie, it's not something I'm particularly proud of!" Sighing, she ran her hands through her hair and shook her head._

"It's not like I'm in love with the man, hell, I don't even have a crush on him. It's just…I don't know. Something about him. Something about the way he moves, his voice, his hands…it's all these little things. And besides, he's really not that bad. His eyes Annie…have you ever really looked at his eyes?" Rosaline frowned slightly in thought, and smirked. "I wonder how they'd look mid-coitus…"

Anne gave a strangled moan, sounding for all the world as though she were about to retch. Composing herself, she gave Rosaline a pleading look "Please…if you're truly my friend, you will never, ever mention sex and Snape in the same sentence again."

"Oh shut up," laughed Rosaline, a wicked grin spreading across her features, "is it really so hard to imagine Snape getting head?" 

"Oh gods, Ros…please…" Anne groaned.

Staring out at sun setting behind the wild Scottish landscape, Rosaline sobered quickly. "I can't help it Annie. It's frustrating because not only is it completely infeasible, but Snape is also a complete and utter wanker. He's a total prick, to everyone except his precious Slytherins. But at the same time, he's generally civil to me – when I'm not being rude, of course. It's clear he respects those who have an affinity for potions, Slytherin or not. So why is he so nasty all the time?"

Shaking her head, Rosaline scowled. "I just don't understand."

Anne shook her head reproachfully and patted her friend. "You probably shouldn't. Gods know what you might end feeling for him if you got inside his head."

Rosaline smirked.

"Trust me. I have no romantic delusions about Snape," she said smoothly, "I just want to fuck his brains out."

Anne moaned and shuddered before standing up and tugged Rosaline to her feet. "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever heard you say. And you're generally quite perverted. C'mon, it's getting close to dinner. Though completely nauseated, I'm hungry nonetheless."

Laughing, Rosaline followed Annie back into the castle and towards Gryffindor tower.

Neither of them had noticed the black silhouette which had disappeared from the shadows within the entrance hall of Hogwarts moments before they stood up.


	2. Free From Care...

**_Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns any and all of the info…ahem, 'borrowed' from Harry Potter. Rosaline and Anne are mine, as are any other original characters who decide to drop by later._**

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**_CHAPTER 2: FREE FROM CARE…_**

Rosaline and Anne strolled into the Great Hall, still giggling as they slid into their seats at Gryffindor table. Chatting happily with her house-mates, Rosaline shivered suddenly, and frowned.

"Someone's walking over my grave," she mumbled.

Shaking herself, Rosaline mentally scolded herself for being so silly and opted to concentrate on mashed potatoes and gravy instead. Before she had a chance to properly dig in, Anne poked her in the ribcage.

"Oy! Annie!" Rosaline turned impatiently to her friend, "what're you doing?"

Anne's pale, confused face stopped Rosaline from continuing her rebuke.

"Umm…Ros, Snape is watching you."

Rosaline turned her face towards the staff table, only to freeze like a deer in the headlights as her gaze locked with that of the Potions professor. His black eyes bored into her impassively, betraying neither anger nor pleasure at seeing her squirm. Just…curiosity.

Rosaline shivered and tore her eyes back to her plate, her appetite gone. Those eyes. She shivered again and pushed her plate away. Anne looked at her with concern, and Rosaline just smiled weakly. "I'm okay Annie…really. I just don't feel top notch. I think I'm gonna go lie down."

With that, she got up and walked as slowly as she could out of the Great Hall, heading back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Cold shower," she muttered to herself, "that's what I need right now."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline stepped from the shower and wrung her hair out before wrapping a towel around her body. Stepping up to the fogged mirror, she rubbed away the steam and surveyed herself critically.

"Accio," she murmured, her wand obeying instantly and flying into her hand. Running a hand through her wet hair, she smiled, and pointed the wand at her head. 

"Exaresco."

The drying charm worked instantly, and Rosaline's hair settled into its usual slightly wild waves of dark brown. Drying the rest of her body with the soft towel, Rosaline pulled on boxer-shorts and a tank top, with a robe over top. It was still early in the year, October, and the weather was quite mild.

Walking back to the 7th year girl's dorm, she heard the other Gryffindors returning from dinner.

_'Might as well go and tell Annie not to worry before she hunts me down and beats me…' Rosaline thought to herself as she headed down the stairs to the common room._

She reached her destination just as Anne tumbled gracelessly through the portrait hole, clearly in a hurry. Standing up, she saw Rosaline at the foot of the stairs and glared at her.

"Ros, I was worried! Why did you take off like that? You knew I couldn't leave." Anne scolded, pointing to the prefect badge she had worked so hard to earn over her years at Hogwarts.

Rosaline smiled sheepishly at her friend. "I'm sorry Annie…but I just couldn't stay there, not with the way…um, _he was looking at me," running a hand through her hair, Rosaline pulled Anne up the stairs towards their dorm, talking softly as they went, "it was scary Annie, it was as though he knew exactly what I was thinking, but was curious, not angry or insulted. I really don't think I could handle another look like that from him. It made my stomach do cartwheels."_

Anne looked at her critically, and clucked her tongue. "You just need to get a little self control, that's all. Tomorrow's Friday, and though we have Potions last period, you can be free of Snape for the weekend after that. But you'd better get a grip Ros," Anne teased, a grin on her face, "it's not like you can run off for a cold shower in the middle of class."

"Very funny. I can control myself just fine, thanks." Rosaline glared at Annie, who just giggled.

The two girls reached their room and fell onto their beds. Rolling onto her back, Rosaline chewed her lip uneasily while staring at the canopy above her. "You don't think he…well, _knows, do you Annie?"_

"How could he?" Anne reassured, "it's not like the man's psychic or anything."

Rosaline nodded, unconvinced, and stretched, yawning. "I think I'm gonna go to bed now, I'm exhausted."

Anne nodded and stood up. "I'll be back in a while, as will the rest of the lot. We'll try not to wake you."

Rosaline lay quietly till the other girl had left, then pulled her robe over her head, throwing it over the trunk at the bottom of her bed. Crawling back over the mattress, she slid under the sheets and curled up.

_'It's no big deal, you've just got to stop being such a git. He's only a man. Don't sweat it,' she thought, __'tomorrow will be like any other day…'_

Rosaline slept.

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Rosaline shifted her book bag to her other shoulder and followed Anne reluctantly down the stairs into the Hogwarts dungeons. Their last class of the day, Potions, was crawling inevitably closer. Far too quickly for Rosaline's liking. Anne turned impatiently and looked up the stairs at her friend.

"Ros, we're gonna be late!" she said in irritation.

Sighing, Ros trotted down the remaining stairs and the two girls jogged down the dank corridor to the Potions classroom.

As they took their seats, Snape glided through the door, his robes billowing behind him. He turned abruptly to face the class once he reached his desk and glared at the uneasy Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. 

"Today we will be brewing the Securus Serum, a potion which causes one to become free from all inhibitions and cares. As pleasant as this may sound to you dunderheads, it is quite dangerous. A person who has been given the serum could easily jump off a cliff for no reason other than they wanted to fly, act impulsively and endanger the lives or well-being of others because they did not care about the consequences, or," he intoned smoothly, his glance flitting briefly to Rosaline, "make an utter fool of themselves in front of the object of their…_misplaced affections."_

Rosaline blanched and gripped the sides of her table, her knuckles going white. She did not dare let her face betray her horror, and watched Snape impassively, forcing herself to appear attentive.

"The recipe is in your textbooks. Work in pairs – the ingredients are available in the cupboard. Get to work and don't pester me." The professor sat down and began marking, looking up to glare accusingly at the class every so often, daring them to make noise.

Anne looked at Rosaline with wide eyes, then opened her textbook, and got up to collect the ingredients.

Rosaline stared blankly at the desk in front of her for a beat, then began to prepare the cauldron, her every movement measured and controlled, smothering her screaming inner voice. Anne returned, her arms full with ingredients, and silently began preparing them.

The two girls worked quietly, not even noticing how Snape's gaze would drift occasionally to Rosaline, only to be removed a moment later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline wiped off her knife and placed it back on the desk. She and Anne had finished their potion – perfectly this time. Anne gave her friend a weak smile, concern still obvious in her eyes.

"I'm okay Annie," Rosaline whispered reassuringly, "we've finished the potion, and it's been done properly." She smiled, and sat back, allowing herself a moment of relaxation. Unfortunately, it ended abruptly when a soft, sibilant voice, directly behind her, spoke.

"Miss Staunton, Miss Prescott…I see you've finished. And, my word, your cauldron appears to actually contain the correct potion this class. How impressive," Snape mocked, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "perhaps you would be so kind as to assist me in demonstrating the effects of Securus Serum, Miss Staunton?"

Rosaline suppressed a whimper and turned around slowly. Snape had been leaning over to look into the cauldron. This same position now meant his face was a hair's breadth away from Rosaline's. Swallowing, the girl met his gaze defiantly, ignoring the warnings klaxons screaming in her head. Kicking her inner voice in its proverbial teeth, Rosaline smiled winningly.

"Certainly, sir."

Anne's gasp of dismay was ignored by both Snape and Rosaline, neither willing to look away. Snape finally sneered and straightened.

"Class, hurry up and finish your potions. We will have a demonstration – Miss Staunton has been generous enough to volunteer her potion and herself," Snape said coldly, and strode back to his desk.

Rosaline's composure began to crack, and she shot Anne a panicked look. Her friend looked back helplessly.

The rest of the class completed their potions in a matter of minutes, and Snape produced a small vial, full of a violet liquid. He glided back to Anne and Rosaline, holding a large spoon. Handing it to Rosaline, he smirked coldly, his black eyes tearing yet another hole in the girl's quickly crumbling self-control.

Speaking up to address the class, Snape held up the vial. "This is the antidote to Securus Serum, which I will administer to Miss Staunton after I point out the signs indicating that the Securus Serum is beginning to take effect."

The class watched with baited breath as Rosaline took the spoon hesitantly, as though she expected it to bite. Dipping it tentatively in the potion, she slowly raised it to her lips. There was a collective intake of breath from the students. Snape merely watched, his eyes burning into hers. Rosaline met his gaze for a moment, then took a sip of the potion.

Everyone waited.

And waited.

Snape frowned and looked at the potion, taking a delicate sniff of the brew. "It does not appear to be strong enough Miss Staunton," he muttered, displeasure clear in his voice. Rosaline stood still, relief flooding through her body.

"Get out," Snape hissed to the class. The students obliged happily, and were gone in a matter of minutes.

Rosaline began gathering up her books, ready to follow Anne, who stood at the door impatiently. "Go on ahead Annie, I'll catch up," Rosaline called out happily. The other girl smiled and disappeared out into the dark corridor.

Heading for the door, Rosaline began to feel an odd sensation. A gentle warmth was creeping through her body, making her feel carefree and cheerful. She felt like she could do anything. A hand dropped lightly onto her shoulder, and Rosaline looked at it in surprise. It was long and pale – delicate. She wanted to kiss those precise fingers.

Turning slowly, she looked up into Snape's face, which currently sneered down at her. Rosaline smiled seductively, knowing exactly what she wanted. 

Sliding her hands up Snape's chest, she grinned at his obvious astonishment. Without giving him moment to react, she wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her fingers in his surprisingly soft black hair, and pressed her lips forcefully to his.

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**_A/N:  Heh….I always did like cliff-hangers, even if this isn't an overly dramatic one. And wow, I got reviews already! Thank you to those who commented, I appreciate it a great deal. And I certainly hope no one expected Snape to follow Ros out at the beginning…I mean __c'mon, that would be too obvious ^_~ _**

*The charms and potions I used which you haven't heard of are in Latin, following J.K. Rowling's example.

http://www.histopia.nl/onldict/lat.html is a great site for translating.

*I should probably make it clear what sort of time-line I'm following. I'm trying not to mess up Rowling's. Rosaline and Anne were born in 1973, and this part of the story is set in 1990 (ugh, what horrible clothes). That makes Snape 30, or 31, depending on his birthday. Not _too much of an age difference…heh…ahem. Anyways, just wanted to clear that up._

**_Silveray & Sister Nature:  Thank you for the feedback  ^_^  I'm not really a shipper for any specific HP couple. I've always liked the Snape/OC fics, so I thought I'd try and write my own. Glad you're enjoying it so far!_**


	3. Change of Plans

**_Disclaimer: If you don't know it by now, you never will. Don't own anything from Harry Potter, least of all Snape (drat). Ros and Annie are mine._**

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**_CHAPTER 3: CHANGE OF PLANS_**

Snape, too shocked to move, stood dumbly as Rosaline kissed him with as much passion as a 17 year old girl can muster. She felt him respond for one brief, shocking moment, his hands coming to rest tentatively on her shoulders.

Coming to his senses, he tightened his grip and roughly pushed her back, detaching her lips from his abruptly. Rosaline smiled brightly up at him, the Securus Serum running amok within her body.

Snape sighed in exasperation and strode quickly to his desk to retrieve the antidote. As he bent forward slightly to grab it, he froze, feeling a hand grabbing his posterior. Slowly straightening, and noting that the hand did not move, he turned and glowered dangerously down at the smiling Rosaline.

"Drink this," he snapped as he removed her hand, still on his bottom, and shoved the vial into her palm. Sighing petulantly at his less than welcoming response to her advances, Rosaline regarded him with an appraising look, a smirk on her face.

"What'll you give me if I do?" she purred.

Snape's face grew darker by the second, while, surprisingly, a faint flush rose in his sallow cheeks. "I won't have you expelled," he hissed, "how's that for a start? Now drink...the…bloody…potion." The last words were said so softly and slowly Rosaline had to strain to listen, but the venom and looming threat of immense violence hung so heavily on them that even in her altered state she felt it would be wise to obey.

Uncorking the bottle, she gave Snape one last pout before downing the liquid. She immediately coughed at the burning in her throat and grimaced; screwing her eyes shut in discomfort as the fire raced down her throat and invaded her stomach.

After a few moments, Rosaline opened her eyes and looked around in confusion. As the reality of what happened hit her, her face became bright red. Remembering Snape was still standing directly in front of her, the blush faded as quickly as it came, replaced with an interesting lack of colour.

"Well Miss Staunton…it appears your potion was strong enough after all," he said dryly, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"I…oh gods…uh, Professor, I…," she attempted to formulate some sort of explanation, before wilting visibly. "Bloody hell," she muttered. Rosaline stared blankly at the floor and turned quickly, retreating towards the door as fast as she could while retaining some shred of dignity.

"Miss Staunton." 

Rosaline stopped and, banishing any expression from her face, looked back at the Potions professor.

"I'd suggest you do your best you seek out a new object of affection," Snape drawled, a smirk, not _wholly unkind, on his face, "this continued embarrassment while near me does not suit you."_

Rosaline's eyes narrowed, and she glared at him.

"Believe me, Professor Snape, I have no _affections for you whatsoever," she growled, and strode quickly from the classroom._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline stormed into the Gryffindor common room, hurled her book bag into a corner and herself into an armchair.

Anne looked up from her homework in surprise, her expression changing to a mixture of confusion and dismay at Rosaline's dark expression. Before she had a chance to ask, Rosaline held up a hand. "Don't ask. Please."

Standing up again, Rosaline paced in front of the fire, her anger obvious. Anne watched her quietly, her dark brown eyes confused. Shaking her head, she went back to her homework, knowing better than to press her friend.

Having calmed her anger slightly, Rosaline retrieved her book bag and headed up to her dorm for yet another shower. Climbing the stairs quickly, she dropped the backpack on her bed and pulled her robe over her head, tossing it carelessly on the floor.

_'The miserable bastard,' she fumed, __'why the hell did he make me try that bloody potion in the first place?! And how the hell__ did he know that found him attractive? Am I that__ obvious? Fuck. He smelt good…like rosemary…and something else…some kind of balm?'_

Growling, Rosaline banished the thoughts as she stalked into the bathroom and stripped. She turned the shower on and regarded herself critically in the mirror as the water heated up.

_'I'm not that repulsive, am I…?' she trailed off and snorted at her own folly. __'Silly girl. You're his student, and almost half his age. Of course he's not going to do anything with you, whether you're lovely or loathsome.' Chuckling at her alliteration, Rosaline stepped into the shower, sighing contentedly as the hot water ran over her._

One thought continued to play through her head, however, despite her best attempts to dispel it.

_'He kissed me back, for that one second…why?' _

Rosaline sighed and grabbed her shampoo.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline smiled and stretched as she woke up. The past two months had been uneventful, and today was promising to be yet another good day. Ever since the fiasco in Potions, she and Snape had kept a very wide berth of each other. She simply had no desire, well no mental desire at least, to be anywhere near the man. As far as Rosaline was concerned he was a horrible git. The fact that he was darkly attractive and appealed to every one of her baser instincts – such as the ones which wanted to tackle him and screw him seven ways from Sunday – was something which only bothered her when she found herself daydreaming in class.

It was the end December. Exams were over, and the impending Christmas break always put the denizens of Hogwarts in good spirits – Rosaline being no exception. 

Throwing back her duvet, she allowed herself another luxurious stretch before she hopped out of bed and headed for the showers. Anne was still asleep, as were Amanda and Clarice, the only other residents of the 7th year Gryffindor girl's dorm.

Rosaline showered and primped quickly, then came out of the bathroom in her dressing gown to find Anne dragging herself out of bed.

"Morning, sunshine," she chirped, smiling innocently at the threatening look Anne shot her.

Rosaline dressed quickly, and, after waiting for Anne for 20 minutes, decided to head down to breakfast on her own. Humming tunelessly as she navigated the fickle staircases, she struggled to remember the dream she had had last night. 

A frown crossed her face as images of being wrapped up in an impenetrable darkness, warm and intimate, surfaced in her mind. Slowing, Rosaline rummaged further into her memory, but all she could recall was a pleasant, comforting scent. Shrugging it off, she walked into the Great Hall, one of the first people to arrive.

Sitting down at the Gryffindor table, Rosaline poured herself a cup of black tea and drank it slowly, savouring the warmth which spread through her body. Spreading butter on a piece of toast, she took a preoccupied bite and stared into space.

_'Rosemary and…something else. Where do I know that from?' she asked herself idly. It bothered her that she couldn't remember when it was clearly important. Taking an uninterested sip of her tea, Rosaline shivered as someone strode into the hall and towards the staff table, a faint waft of air teasing her hair. Glancing in the direction the person had went, she was unsurprised to see Snape sitting down in his customary place at the end of the table._

Rosaline sighed and allowed herself to watch him for a moment.

_'He really isn't all that good looking. His features are too cruel. He'd be a hard man to love…' she mused, before sitting up straight in alarm. Love? What did that have to do with anything? She snorted in a disturbingly Snape-like manner and took a swig of tea, the hot liquid burning her tongue and effectively bringing her back to reality._

Rosaline finished her toast quickly, eager to get back to her common room and away from Snape. Daring a glance at the staff table again, she was shocked to realise Snape was watching her, his deep black eyes burning with some indefinite emotion. Struggling to breath, Rosaline stood up hastily, almost knocking over her chair, and walked quickly from the hall. After putting a few corridors between herself and those eyes, she collapsed against a wall and slid down to a sitting position.

"God dammit…" she muttered and glared at her shaking hands, "my own body is betraying me."

Clenching her hands into fists, she dug her nails deeply into her palms, wincing as they began to cut her skin. 

_'Strange,' she thought, __'how calming and centering pain can be.' Letting her hands drop to her sides, Rosaline sighed, her head falling forward to rest on her knees. _

_'This is so utterly ridiculous. He's just a man. A foul-tempered, arrogant, bitter, cruel man, who just happens to have the most elegant hands, the most magnetic eyes…oh bugger.'_

Wearily she raised her head and lifted a hand to her face, scrutinizing the half circles of blood on her palm dispassionately. Though the cuts were small and healing already, Rosaline couldn't remember any other time she'd ever succeeded in drawing blood.

Climbing awkwardly to her feet, the weary girl walked slowly back towards Gryffindor Tower.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline climbed through the portrait hole and collapsed into an empty armchair near the fire. A few of her housemates were spread around the room, talking animatedly about the upcoming break – the train was leaving the following evening, after lunch. Rubbing the bridge of nose tiredly, Rosaline's eyes closed. 

She couldn't wait to return to her family home in Ireland. She missed the gently rolling landscape which defined the center of her small country. The isolated location of her home and the seclusion it promised were foremost in her mind. The closest sign of civilization was the small Muggle town of Clonmellon, which had very little to offer in the way of population.

Anne and a few other Gryffindors clamoured through the portrait hole, interrupting Rosaline's reverie. As she sat down in a nearby chair, Anne passed a letter to the dark haired girl. Rosaline looked up at her in confusion.

"An owl dropped it on your usual place; I reckoned I might as well bring it up for you," Anne chuckled, "better that than leaving it behind for the house elves to use as clothing."

Rosaline smiled and opened the letter, only to curse loudly a moment later.

"Bugger! My bloody parents have to go away on Ministry business and I have to stay _here over Christmas," she moaned.___

Rosaline's parents, both Aurors for the Ministry, travelled a great deal, often having to leave quickly, with no more than twenty-four hours notice of their missions. Their only daughter had always hated these impromptu trips. Her young, though realistic, mind was always aware of the possibility that one or both might not return one day.

Rosaline glared into the fire, her hands folding the parchment of the letter into progressively smaller rectangles. Knowing it was useless to complain any further, she banished the dark clouds from her brow and sighed.

The miserable look on Anne's face gave Rosaline a twinge of guilt. There was no reason she had to ruin her friend's holidays. Forcing a smile, she reached for Anne's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"Don't worry, there're a few other people staying, and I really do need to do some studying – N.E.W.T.S. are quickly approaching, you know," she said with as much assurance as she could muster. "Besides, I'll get to spend the entire summer lazing about at home before my parents throw me out."

Anne cracked a weak smile and nodded with hesitation.

"Okay Ros…I could always stay…?"

Rosaline shook her head. "Definitely not. I know you want to go home desperately, Annie. Don't feel you need to stay here to watch out for me. I'll be perfectly fine on my own."

"Alright…if you're sure…"

Rosaline smiled and winked at Anne. "Of course I'm sure. Now, you need to go and start packing – I know how long you take – and I need to go find McGonagall and tell her about this little change of plans."

The two girls stood up and headed off on their respective errands.

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**_A/N: Whee…I'm really enjoying writing this! Ya, it's not the greatest story in the world, but I'm having fun. Ooh….you naughty reviewers. Rosaline is only 17, remember? *grins* Snape isn't __that much of a pervert (pity…). The tasty bits will turn up eventually…I just need to steep the plot in angst and melodrama first. ^_^_**

*Balms (lemon, or any other type, I believe) supposedly magical properties are its ability to soothe away 'love pains', and rosemary is reputed to bring contentment and love. 

*Clonmellon is a real town in Ireland…I chose to use it due to an old personal attachment. I'll be immensely impressed if anyone can tell me which county it's in.

**_bluemeanies: Don't worry, I'm not gonna get our dear Professor Snape fired…he'd never actually do anything with a student. Thanks for the review ^_^_**

**_Juryu: I was never really sure with the age thing – I'm going by the timeline on the Harry Potter Lexicon (http://www.i2k.com/~svderark/lexicon/). It claims Snape, along with the Marauders, were born in 1960. Could be wrong…but it's convenient to use. Thanks for the info, and the nice review! (And Snape is just so damn fuckable…I can't conceive a person who __wouldn't wanna fuck his brains out….heh)_**

Thank you to everyone else who's read my story and dropped me a line about it. I'll try and keep on churning out chapters, but the university keeps threatening to throw me out for not attending classes… ^_~


	4. Playing With Fire

**_Disclaimer:_**** If you think I own these characters you should be locked in a mental institution. They're JK Rowling's, 'cept for Rosaline and Anne. **

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**_CHAPTER 4: PLAYING WITH FIRE_******

Rosaline sat alone in the Gryffindor common room, watching the fire burn down in the hearth. The mass exodus from Hogwarts had been a few days earlier, and the silence which had settled over the old corridors and rooms of the castle was calming. As much as she had wanted to see her family again, the most pressing desire Rosaline felt was the need for solitude.

Social creature that she could be, and often was, Rosaline still needed regular breaks from the hordes of people who insisted on populating her section of the earth. The lack of patience she had for those less intellectually gifted than her did not help. Anne occasionally mused on how easily Rosaline could have ended up in Ravenclaw, or even Slytherin. A dark look from the subject of her contemplation, and that particular discussion invariably ended.

But Rosaline knew it was true. The Sorting Hat itself had suggested the two options. Ravenclaw was far too boring for a mischievous girl, and Slytherin had far too disturbing a reputation, reasons which made Rosaline sure Gryffindor was for her. Now, staring into the fire, surrounded by the familiar room she had come to know and love over her 7 years at Hogwarts, doubt crept into her mind.

Oh, Ravenclaw still had no appeal for her. The cloistered life of constant research and study could never have fully satisfied Rosaline. She did enjoy learning and studying in many respects, it just wasn't something she could have done all the time, even though Potions was, by far, her favourite subject. The idea of that sort of research, a hands on approach, was something she relished. Besides, most of the Ravenclaws she had spoken to were serious, and somewhat adverse to silly, pointless fun. No. The choice to avoid Ravenclaw did not bother her at all. It was the other choice she had given up, the one which would have put her in _his house._

Rosaline was neither naïve nor prejudiced enough to believe that every single bad wizard to emerge from Hogwarts had been a Slytherin. Such reasoning was foolish and highly illogical. She knew that some of the best Aurors had emerged from Slytherin, and some of the worst Dark Wizards from other houses. She smiled wryly at the thought of Snape as an Auror.

_'No…he's not some avenging angel,' she thought, __'but he's not a demon either'_

Glancing at the large grandfather clock she noted that it was almost dinner time. Standing, Rosaline headed out the portrait hole, waved to the Fat Lady, and headed down to the Great Hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline sat down at the almost empty Gryffindor table; the only other members of her house present were the Weaslys – the second year twins, Fred and George, and their older, fourth year brother, Percy. She grinned as she watched one of the twins – gods knew she could never tell them apart – slip something into Percy's goblet while he wasn't looking.

Both Fred and George winked at her, then smiled sweetly at Percy who had just taken a drink. Almost instantly, his normally flaming red hair turned bright pink. Unaware of the change Percy looked at his younger brother with a mix of surprise and disgust as they began laughing hysterically. Rosaline, unable to control herself, collapsed into a fit of giggles.

"Here," she laughed, handing Percy her small pocket mirror, "take a look."

Percy glanced at his reflection and stood up, roaring in anger. Fred and George almost fell out of their chairs with laughter. Percy's bellow caught the attention of the professors, who, with varying degrees of success, attempted to keep straight faces.

McGonagall rushed over and glares at the twins.

"Fred and George! How many times have I told you about pulling pranks like this? On your brother no less?" she yelled, her Scottish accent becoming even more pronounced in her anger. "Detention, for both of you!"

Fred and George, still far too hysterical with laughter, simply nodded at her, unable to speak. Percy was fuming. McGonagall patted his shoulder reassuringly.

"Let's get you to the hospital wing, Mister Weasly. I'm sure Madame Pomfry can fix this…" she said uncertainly, and shot a dark look at the twins with a gesture for them to follow before hurrying the very irate Percy out of the Hall.

Fred and George, finally having regained some degree of self-control, grinned broadly at Rosaline.

"Brilliant stuff, eh? We made it ourselves," boasted one, whom Rosaline decided was George.

"Sometimes, old chap," said Fred, elbowing his twin in the ribs, "we impress even ourselves."

"We'll see you sometime tomorrow, Rosaline, if McGonagall is feeling generous," George called over his shoulder as the two boys strolled out of the Great Hall.

Still chuckling, Rosaline started on a piece of chicken, chewing thoughtfully. Eating her meal in silence, Rosaline drifted off into her own little world. A soft cough behind her interrupted her train of thought.

Turning, she paled as she looked up into Snape's impassive face. Clearing his throat with what Rosaline was shocked to discover as embarrassment, he looked down at her with a slight sneer.

"Miss Staunton, it appears I have need of you," he purred silkily.

Rosaline's stomach began to dance the polka, but she forbade her features from betraying her shock. 

_'Damn him for using those exact words and that tone of voice,' she thought bitterly, __'of course, he delights in tormenting students. Why should I be any exception?'_

She looked up at him coolly.

"Sir?"

"I am conducting some research at the moment, and I require another set of hands to aid in carrying out the tests. As you are one of the most competent students in Potions, as well as the only one of that _small," he sneered at the word, obviously displeased at the necessity of its use, "group here, I thought you might be interested in assisting me."_

Her nervousness forgotten, Rosaline smiled broadly and nodded. "I would love to, Sir. Research with Potions has always interested me."

Snape looked at her, a spark of amusement in his dark eyes for a brief second, before they froze back into impenetrable chips of black ice .

"I'm well aware of your interest, Miss Staunton. I will expect you in the Potions classroom at 8pm tonight. Good evening."

Rosaline watched him glide out of the Hall, his cloak billowing behind him. The prospect of working on testing out new potions gave Rosaline an excited little jolt when she thought about it.

She got up after a few minutes, and headed back towards Gryffindor tower. Her thoughts weren't long in drifting to Snape. Would he embarrass her? Mock her? Rosaline sighed. He'd been quite civil every since the little incident, and except for the occasional confusing dream, and the looks she and the Potions Master sometimes exchanged, things had been quite normal. But those looks always threw her for a loop.

She mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and crawled through the portrait hole, still deep in thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At 8pm that evening, Rosaline stood before the door of the Potions classroom, shivering slightly from the cold. She knocked tentatively, then opened the door a crack.

"Professor Snape?" she asked, hoping her voice didn't waver.

"Ahh, Miss Staunton," a deep voice, lined with silk responded, "come in."

Rosaline slipped through the door and shut it gently behind her, then turned to look to the center of the room. Snape was leaning over a cauldron which simmered gently on one of the student desks. Any number of glass jars and vials were clustered on the same surface, their contents reflecting the light from the few candles floating near by. Without looking up, Snape crooked one long finger towards her, indicating she should approach.

Rosaline obeyed, walking quietly towards the tall man. She felt that any loud noise would be an unwelcome intrusion. Barely daring to breath, the girl waited quietly, her gaze resting on the deep red liquid within the cauldron for a moment before flicking up to observe the Potions Master's countenance. He looked…content. Not happy, a sentiment Rosaline wasn't sure Snape could feel, merely peaceful.

_'He's in his element here,' she thought, __'this is where he belongs, where he feels most comfortable.' Her lips betrayed the pleasure she took from this knowledge, and curved up slightly, a faint smile dancing across her face._

Snape looked up at that moment and, noticing her ghost of a smile, looked at her quizzically, something, possibly amusement, flickering in his black eyes.

"Might I ask what you find so entertaining, Miss Staunton?"

The smile disappeared instantly, and Rosaline's face became serious.

"Nothing, sir. What are you preparing?" she asked quietly, changing the subject.

"I require your assistance in concocting the experimental form of a highly complex potion," Snape said briskly as he straightened, "I've received the proposed recipes and merely need to test them."

"What are you trying to create?" Rosaline asked, aware of the impropriety of asking such a question only after the words had left her lips.

Snape regarded her coolly. "That is none of your concern, Miss Staunton. Kindly mind your own business."

Rosaline bit her lip and nodded, chastised. Snape watched her for a moment, then slide a large jar over to her, letting it rest beside a pestle and mortar .

"Begin grinding down the arnica, Miss Staunton," he murmured, his eyes still on her.

Rosaline frowned as a stray thought flitted through her mind. She looked up at him, mild surprise on her features. "Arnica? That's wolfsbane, Professor. There are almost no potions which call for it, other than those for healing purposes. But they're rarely complex…and I somehow can't see you as a medi-wizard."

Snape sneered and glowered down at her. "I'll let that small insult pass, Miss Staunton, if you can tell me what else wolfsbane can be used for."

Rosaline resisted the urge to cower and wracked her brain.

"Well…it's used against werewolves, obviously. That's where it gets it's more common name from," she furrowed her brow in concentration, "but it has to be pure to kill them…if you were using it as a potion ingredient, that could only mean that you were attempting to cure…" Rosaline's eyes widened. "You're looking for a cure for lycanthropy!"

"Very good, Miss Staunton," Snape said coldly, "it appears you're not quite as brainless as I had begun to believe. Now, if you would be so kind," he drawled, sarcasm creeping back into his voice, "prepare the wolfsbane."

Rosaline flushed with indignation but kept her mouth shut. She began to pummel the herb relentlessly. Snape looked up to watch her.

"And 5 points to Gryffindor," he said silkily before returning his attention to the now bubbling concoction.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They worked for a long time, most of which Rosaline spent preparing ingredients while becoming more and more exasperated, wondering why exactly she was needed here. Snape, demonstrating his talent at appearing to be psychic, explained how many of the ingredients needed to be prepared very shortly before the potion was made. As the task of brewing the mixture required constant supervision and attention, Snape could not possibly prepare the ingredients himself, and therefore needed an assistant

Rosaline accepted this explanation grudgingly, and continued chopping toad's liver.

As it began to approach midnight, Snape suddenly swore loudly and glared at the potion. Rosaline, surprised, dropped the small vial of salamander blood she had been holding. It fell to the floor at her feet and shattered, immediately igniting the bottom and lower front of her robe. Rosaline screamed, staggering backwards.

Snape was at her side in a moment, dousing the blaze with a potion of some sort. As quickly as they had appeared, the flames were gone. The bottom of Rosaline's robe was in tatters, ragged where it had been burnt.

"Miss Staunton, are you alright?" Snape asked, the anger in his voice tempered by concern.

Rosaline nodded dumbly in shock and took a shaky step towards a desk, needing something to lean against. As the cloth of her robe brushed against her legs she cried out and collapsed. Snape caught her before she hit the floor and looked down at her in confusion.

"Rosaline?" he asked. She merely whimpered in response.

Lifting her easily onto a bare desk, Snape pulled Rosaline's robe up to her knees and grimaced, his breath coming out in a shocked hiss. Her legs had been badly burned – the skin a dark angry red, covered with blisters.

Snape strode quickly into his office and re-emerged a moment later, a number of large gauze pads in one hand and a bottle filled with silver liquid in the other.

"This will help," he said softly, and poured a generous amount of liquid onto a bandage.

He began dabbing it gently on her ruined legs, one hand wrapped lightly around her calf muscle, where the burns did not reach, to hold her steady. The skin immediately began to heal, pink with newness. Rosaline bit her lip, determined not to whimper. Working his way up from her ankles, Snape paused at her knees then pulled her robe up further, leaving it at mid-thigh. A few small burns marred the flesh there. Snape prepared a fresh pad and gently ran it over the marks. As the pain faded, Rosaline sighed, closing her eyes, the liquid cool and soothing against her skin. She opened her eyes slowly, the pain now gone. Snape was still kneeling on the floor, one long-fingered hand still holding her calf. He looked up at her, his face carefully expressionless.

"Thank you," she murmured, feeling a bit feverish, though not from the burns.

Snape nodded and stood, then tossed the used bandages in the bin. Rosaline sat quietly, staring blankly at her legs. Her robe was still hiked up, and the skin looked tender and fresh.

She looked suddenly up at Snape, and was surprised to see his glance was resting on her thighs. Immediately, his eyes were locked with hers, but for that brief moment, Rosaline had felt a thrill shoot up her spine.

_'His eyes can be so cold and blank when he chooses,' she reflected, __'but when he lets his guard down…' unable to find the right words, Rosaline's train of thought derailed. There had been something dark and frightening in those black eyes, something she couldn't quite understand. Remembering his warm fingers on her legs, she shivered._

"Perhaps this little mishap will teach you to be more careful in future, Miss Staunton," Snape said dryly, breaking the spell. Rosaline flushed with indignation.

"You spoke loudly and startled me. I wouldn't have dropped the vial otherwise."

Snape regarded her with contempt. "Occurrences outside your control are no excuse. You must learn to expect the unexpected."

Rosaline dropped her eyes to the floor and pushed her ruined robe down over her legs. She stood slowly, and looked up at him again. He raised a brow and sighed.

"Go to bed Miss Staunton. I'll expect you to be here again tomorrow evening."

Rosaline nodded and headed towards the door, her mind struggling to process all the emotions and sensations she was feeling. A hand descended suddenly on her shoulder. She looked behind her, up into Snape's face.

"Perhaps, in future, it would be advisable to wear some form of outer clothing beneath your robes," he said with a smirk.

Rosaline blushed brightly and scampered out of the room.

The Potions Master stood for a moment, watching the doorframe from which she had retreated, before turning back to the mess in the classroom.

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**_A/N: I've always thought that if I got to wear robes, I'd not bother to wear anything underneath. It'd be more fun that way (easy access ^_~). I figured I'd throw some Weaslys in for a laugh – they always amused me, especially the twins. Again, I'm going by the timeline from the Harry Potter Lexicon (http://www.i2k.com/~svderark/lexicon/). _**

*It was noted in TPOA that Lupin's wolfsbane potion was a relatively new creation…I'm not giving Snape the credit of making it (like he'd do something that generous, heh) – he's just working on the experimental recipe invented by someone else. 

*I think I'm going to write the next chapter from Snape's perspective…I'm looking forward to getting into Severus' pants…uhh…I mean head ^_^;;

*I'm not gonna be uploading the next chapter for a little while. I'm away this weekend, and I have two midterms next week (ugh). I'll get it up as soon as possible though (so please don't hurt me, Sweet Audrina!)

*So no one knows where Clonmellon is? Hmm….well, I'll leave the question unanswered, till the end of the story. Anyone who knows is free to offer a guess ^_^

Thank you again for all the reviews!


	5. Inertia Creeps

**_Disclaimer: Ros & Annie are mine, the rest belongs to the Goddess Rowling *genuflects* Chapter title is the same as that of a Massive Attack song…which happens to be quite good. Though I prefer the Stigmata remix m'self. _**

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**_CHAPTER 5: INERTIA CREEPS_**

The Christmas holidays ended, and the students returned reluctantly. Rosaline continued to help Snape in the dungeon for a few months, though far less frequently since the beginning of the new term. There were no surprises since the night she had dropped the salamander's blood. They worked quietly on the rare evenings when he requested her assistance, the tension between them delicate and unacknowledged outwardly. Rosaline did not dare to entertain the notion that Snape recognized her apprehension while she was in his presence, but alone, in her bed at night, her imagination ran off with her.

January, February, March, April; they all came and went. Rosaline's 18th birthday, the 7th of May, came amid the chaos of preparing for her N.E.W.T.S. Too frenzied to truly appreciate it, Rosaline barely recognized its passing, her mind consumed by Arithmancy and Charms. She and Anne spent many long nights, studying diligently, if unenthusiastically, in the Gryffindor common room. Still, her dreams haunted her, filled with the lingering scent of rosemary and the images of black silk and white skin. Rosaline pressed on, ignoring her instincts and desires.

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Rosaline could not sleep. She kicked back the sheets and climbed out of bed. Pulling her robe over her pyjamas against the slight chill of the spring night, she glided silently out of her dorm and down the stairs of Gryffindor Tower.

She ignored the protests of the Fat Lady and headed down towards the Prefect bath. She wasn't a prefect, nor had she ever been. Rosaline had merely cajoled Anne into revealing the location of the bathroom, along with the password. She had yet to use it - she had merely wanted to know about it in the event that she required it.

Slipping through the hidden door, Rosaline looked around in awe. The surprisingly large room was made entirely of white marble. The bathtub, if it could be called that, was the size of a small swimming pool, with about a hundred golden taps around its edges. Dropping her robe onto a comfortable looking chair in the corner, Rosaline returned to the edge of the pool and selected a faucet at random. Once turned on, large, pink bubbles began spewing out of it. Hastily, Rosaline turned it off, gagging on the over-powering scent of bubble-gum.

After a few false starts, Rosaline found a faucet that produced delicate purple suds, smelling faintly of lilac. As she waited for the huge tub to fill, she stripped, leaving her pyjamas on top of her robe. Sitting on the edge of the bathtub, Rosaline dangled her feet in the rising water, smiling as the room became warmer, faint traces of steam rising gently into the air.

Finally, the tub full, the girl slid slowly into the hot water. Sighing with contentment, she began a lazy backstroke before simply floating, enjoying the feel of the water against her skin. Rosaline noticed the ceiling for the first time, a depiction of a summer's midday sky which, due to its clearly magical nature, moved in an unsurprisingly life-like manner. She amused herself with picking out shapes in the large fluffy clouds that floated past.

A while later, noticing her skin had begun to wrinkle, Rosaline climbed from the tub and padded over to the large pile of fluffy white towels in the corner. She dried off quickly and dressed, not bothering to dry her hair. With a flick of her wand, she banished the water from the bathtub, leaving it spotless. Re-entering the hallways, Rosaline wished she had worn shoes.

_'Too late for that, I suppose,' she thought, '__but there's no reason why I shouldn't get a cup of tea.'_

Rosaline headed back to the stairs, and started down, the kitchens her new destination.

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Snape sat in the small parlour of his chambers that night, in one of the tall backed chairs which faced the fireplace. His high collared black vest, white shirt, and robe had been draped carelessly on the other chair. He sat silently, staring into the fire, his right hand curled loosely around his leanly muscled left forearm. The light reflected in his black eyes, mirroring the emotions that flickered in their depths. He frowned, his thoughts darker than usual.

_'She's a student,' he told himself, __'a girl. Albeit a brilliant, mature girl - my best student.'_

His frown deepened into a grimace of disgust, and he ran a hand over his eyes, trying to banish the images that played in his mind. Her intense green eyes, full of defiance and a composure not generally found in one so young, as they met his on that fateful day in class when he had foolishly chosen to make an example of her by giving her the Securus Serum. If only he had never over-heard that absurd conversation she had with her blasted friend! If only he had never felt it necessary to kill whatever longing she had foolishly felt for him!

"If only," he muttered.

More images and memories followed. The pride he had always felt when he marked her papers or exams, and the regret, tainted with anger, that she had been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin. That seductive smile she had flashed before she had kissed him. Her soft, eager lips. The first hints of longing he felt over the months following. His dark satisfaction at discerning a way in which he could spend time alone with her, and determine whether or not what he felt was real or imagined. The genuine concern he felt when she collapsed that night in the dungeons, after dropping the salamander blood. The way the smooth, ivory skin of her calf had felt in his hand. Her satin thighs.

Snape growled and stood up quickly, grabbing his robe. He strode out of his office and through his classroom, into the halls. He would walk for a while. That would help him clear his head. She was only a student and it was obscene to allow himself to think of her in this manner. He sneered unpleasantly as he imagined the look of horror and disgust which would grace her pretty face if she saw the fantasies which unfolded in his head. Wrapping his robe about himself, he fastened the buttons and glided silently down the hallway.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rosaline quietly closed the hidden door to the kitchens, smiling inwardly. The house-elves had almost fallen over themselves in their eagerness to serve her.

Chuckling, Rosaline wrapped her robe tight around her body and began trotting back towards Gryffindor tower, the stone floors cold under her bare feet. She had just reached the fickle staircases when a soft cough behind her caused her to freeze in her tracks. Turning slowly, Rosaline groaned inwardly at the sight of the tall, black-clad man before her.

"Miss Staunton," he sneered, his eyes taking in her damp hair and bare feet, "I hope, for your sake, that there is a very good explanation for your being out of your dormitory after hours."

Rosaline managed a weak smile and nervously pushed her clinging strand of hair off her face. "I needed a cup of tea?"

Snape glared at her. "Wrong answer, Miss Staunton."

Stepping forward suddenly, the tall man wrapped a long-fingered hand around her upper arm. Rosaline gasped silently, and took a step back. Snape pulled her closer, causing her to stumble and fall against him. The girl looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and confusion, as well as another, darker emotion. Tentatively, she dug her fingers into the fabric of his robe, and, tightening her hands into fists, held on tightly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Snape looked down at the girl in surprise. He hadn't meant to pull her so hard, had he? His observant mind noted that she smelled faintly of lilacs. Releasing her arm, he attempted to take a step back. Rosaline's hands remained entwined in his robes, and he almost faltered. Glaring down at the girl, Snape sneered.

"Let go this instant," he hissed. Rosaline stared up at him with unblinking eyes, eyes which seemed darker than normal. Snape refused to speculate on reasons why.

"You grabbed me first," she said quietly.

Snape growled softly and wrapped his hands around shoulders, pulling her tight against him. 

"Miss Staunton, you are an insufferable little brat who has no idea how dangerous it is to play with this sort of fire. I suggest you scamper off to your safe little bed while you still can," he purred, his eyes dangerously cold.

Rosaline did not flinch. She met his gaze and kept it, unwilling to stand down, despite her obvious fear.

"I'm not a little girl, Professor," she whispered.

Snape sneered, but did not let go.

"Oh, I think you are, Miss Staunton. You're a little girl who knows nothing of the world."

Rosaline scowled up at him and tightened her grip. He suppressed a gasp as he felt her nails digging into his chest through the material of his robe. Snape snarled and lowered his head further, till they were practically nose to nose. Still, Rosaline did not flinch.

"Get. Out. Of. My. Sight," he hissed, and pushed her away.

Caught unawares, Rosaline released Snape's robe and tripped backwards. She landed hard and yelped in surprise. Snape stared at her coldly, his arms crossed across his chest. The girl stood slowly and shot him a venomous look before walking slowly, with dignity, up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. Snape watcher her till she was out of sight, then turned on his heel and stalked back to the dungeons, consumed with fury and arousal.

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**_A/N: Ack…I'm gonna fail all my bloody exams. All because these voices in my head won't stop assaulting me with ideas. Ya, I know this is a short chapter, but for gawd's sake, give a girl a break! And ya, I know I skipped 4 months – but I swear, they were REALLY boring. No point in subjecting you poor readers to them. I thought this little interlude would be far more interesting (and it gave me a chance to picture Snape shirtless…mmmm…)_**

I think I'm going to wrap up this story in the not so distant future. Perhaps in 2 or 3 more chapters? But never fear, dear readers. I intend to do a sequel, featuring our beloved Severus and sweet (hah!) young Rosaline.

**_Mariposa: I'm very impressed…I thought it'd take a while for someone who actually knows the location of Clonmellon to surface. I haven't actually been to Ireland yet, but I will hopefully have the chance to visit sometime in the future. Thank you so much for the wonderful review! I'd love to read some of your works – don't worry about posting 'em on ff.net – I've seen some pretty hardcore stuff floating around on it (which I enjoyed it immensely, muahaha). I'll contact you in a while – I'm obscenely busy at the moment, and I'm amazed that I actually find time for this little fic. Again, thank you._**

Thanks to everyone who's reading this little perversion of mine…don't forget to r/r!


	6. The Calm Before the Storm

**_Disclaimer: yadda, yadda, yadda, not mine, yadda, yadda, yadda, J.K. Rowling's, yadda, yadda, yadda. (and it only took me 19 years to become this articulate, kids!)_**

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**_CHAPTER 6: THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM_**

June, as well as N.E.W.T.S., were a week away, and Rosaline and Anne spent their every spare moment buried under reams of parchment and mountains of textbooks. Rosaline never mentioned her encounter with Snape to her friend, finding it too personal, too disconcerting to share, especially with the fervour of studying foremost in the girl's minds. Yet, it remained in her consciousness, filed away with the other encounters she'd had with him. Rosaline knew that something which had begun simmering in her blood early on the year was inevitably moving closer to its boiling point. She wasn't sure what would happen when it reached its climax.

The weekend before their first exam found the girls sitting quietly in the Gryffindor common room, quizzing each other on Astronomy. After 3 questions wrong in a row, Rosaline groaned and let her head fall forward onto her notes.

"I'm fucked, Annie."

Her friend grinned and patted her shoulder reassuringly. 

"Don't worry; Astronomy isn't till the week after next. We have tons of time to brush up on the Betelgeuse system."

Rosaline merely groaned in response and pulled a leaf of parchment over her head.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first week of two passed quickly – N.E.W.T.S. were spread out over two weeks, to give the 7th years a bit of a break – and Rosaline and Anne were satisfied with the culmination of their hard studying for Defence Against Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic and Arithmancy. Professor Lector, the teacher of the first, assured the girls that they had both passed with flying colours when they approached him a few days later. Rosaline sat her Transfiguration exam as well, and came out of it exhausted but satisfied. Anne groaned about Ancient Runes for a while after she wrote it on the Wednesday morning, but Rosaline was sure she'd done well – it was her forte, and what she planned to use most heavily in her future career as a treasure hunter for Gringotts. The second week had Charms and Muggle Studies, and finished with Potions on the Friday afternoon. This final obstacle before their freedom was looked upon darkly by Anne.

"I can't understand how you enjoy that class so much," she grumbled as they headed down the stairs into the dank dungeons. 

"I know you find it interesting, and not only because of the scenery," Anne relented to shoot Rosaline a grin, "but nevertheless, it's so…exact."

Rosaline nodded. "I know. That's why I like it."

Anne simply shot her friend a puzzled look and shook her head. They entered the classroom. Rosaline did not spare Snape a glance, but continued to ignore him as much as she could. She had done so since the night in the hall, and as far as she could discern, he didn't mind in the slightest. 

With the faintest of sighs, Rosaline began to listen as Snape told the class what their exam would consist of.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Two hours later, the girls emerged from the Potions classroom and headed up the stairs. Anne waited till they were inside the Gryffindor common room to let out a loud whoop of joy.

"We're DONE!" She jumped around happily, while Rosaline simply watched her, laughing. Anne ran around for a while longer before collapsing into an armchair. 

"I'm so bloody exhausted I think I could sleep for a week." 

Rosaline nodded and curled up in a chair close by. "I know exactly what you mean…I just want to crawl into bed and forget everything I've learned," she laughed.

"Well, we have the Graduation Ceremony in over a week," Annie speculated, "we could sleep till Thursday – when all the other kids go home – and then start getting ready for the ball on Saturday."

Rosaline grinned and stood up suddenly. "I forgot to show you Annie, my mum sent me a new dress robe for grad! C'mon, I want you to see it; it's not something I'd normally get all excited over, but, well, you've just gotta see."

Anne smiled at Rosaline as she jumped up. "We'll make a proper girl of you yet," she teased.

Rosaline smacked her playfully before dragging the other girl up the stairs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The graduating class had to wait a while longer for all of their N.E.W.T.S. results than the rest of the school; a drawback to having their exams more spread out. True to their claims, Rosaline and Anne spent an uncouth amount of time sleeping, missing breakfast entirely for the  better part of the following week.

Their results came out the Wednesday, and to Rosaline's chagrin she did not pass History of Magic – her weakest subject to begin with. Her other marks ranged from more than acceptable to stellar, Potions coming out as her highest grade.

The Leaving Feast passed that evening with Ravenclaw winning the House Cup, the Great Hall resplendent in bronze and blue. Thursday came and went quickly. The younger students had been cleared out by noon, leaving the castle strangely silent. Rosaline watched the Hogwarts Express disappear into the landscape from the Astronomy tower, a sense of melancholy rising up her throat and threatening to choke her. She blinked back her mutinous tears and smiled sadly before heading back down the stairs into the castle.

Rosaline headed towards the dungeons, not allowing her feet to drag. She knew she wanted to pursue a career in R&D of potions, and there was only one professor in the school who could give her the information she needed.

The dungeons were chilly, even in the sunny days of late June. Rosaline shivered and pulled her robe tight about herself as she approached Snape's classroom. Standing in front of the door, the girl smothered the images which rose to her mind, unbidden. After the exams had finished, Rosaline's imagination, which had been locked down tight for the past few months, went on a bloody rampage. The erotic, masochistic and down-right bizarre fantasies which had been playing through her mind since the previous week all started clamouring for attention as she knocked on the door.

There was no answer. Rosaline tentatively tried the handle, but to no avail. It was locked. She breathed a sigh of relief.

_'I'll simply have to decide what I want to do myself,' she thought, not overly disappointed by this prospect, as it meant she could avoid seeing Snape._

Rosaline started heading back up the stairs. She had no desire to go to Gryffindor Tower, so she elected to wander, seeing where her feet would lead her. As she strolled through the hallways, Rosaline allowed her mind to skip happily back to its favourite subject.

She wanted to see Snape, while at the same time was more than a little scared of him. Rosaline knew she wanted him. There was no question of that. She wasn't some blushing virgin who trembled at a man's touch. 

_'Well…not most men,' Rosaline thought with disgust. __'No wonder he calls me a little girl. Gods know I act like it whenever he comes near me. He must think I'm a right bint. But…I still want him.'_

Rosaline stopped suddenly. "I'm not his student anymore," she said aloud, "at least, not after the graduation ceremony."

A slow smile spread over her features. She started walking again, slowly, lost in thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Snape sat in his living quarters, trying to read a book. One small voice from a dark corner of his mind continued to interrupt him, repeating the same sentence over and over again.

_She's not your student anymore._

Snape snarled and dropped his unread book onto one of the small tables which flanked the chair. His attempts to rationalize that voice away did not appear to be working. In fact, the voice simply became more persistent when he tried to dissuade it.

She mightn't be 18. She's still almost half my age. I don't want to emotionally scar her – she might be a virgin.

The chanting of the mantra – _She's not your student anymore – continued unabated, until he snapped out what had been haunting his mind ever since the fiasco began._

What if she's simply mocking me?

There was a tense silence for a moment, within Snape's head. Then the same voice spoke up again.

_It wasn't laughter that you saw in her eyes that night in the hall. It was lust. Can't fake that._

Snape snarled again, and, realising how unhealthy it is to have arguments with the voices in one's head, fixed himself a triple brandy and retreated to his bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was Saturday morning. The soon-to-be-graduates who had risen early enough for breakfast chatted excitedly. Some had heard vague tidbits about the Graduation Ball from older siblings or cousins, and were relating heavily embellished stories to their classmates. Their families and other guests were due to arrive in at noon for the feast and subsequent ceremony, after which, in the evening, the graduates themselves would have a wizarding equivalent of a prom. Obviously the faculty of Hogwarts would attend, but the families would not.

Rosaline sat quietly beside Anne, who was cooing over another girl's new necklace, sent as a graduation present from some far off grandparent. Oblivious to the feminine blather, Rosaline's attention was on something else, her eyes staring, unfocused, at absolutely nothing. 

Snape watched the girl in much the same manner a hawk watches a rabbit. His dark, hooded eyes could have burned holes through stone, but she did not, or chose not, to notice. Her mind was certainly occupied with something, though Snape had now way of knowing what.

_'Probably daydreaming about some clumsy, foolish boy who'll take her to the ball tonight, then poke and prod her with unskilled hands afterwards,' he sneered inwardly, not quite sure why that thought angered him as much as it did._

Snape continued to watch the girl, till Dumbledore nudges him gently.

"Perhaps you should speak with our young Miss Staunton, Severus," he said lightly, "from what I've heard from she's eager to pursue a career in potions."

Snape glared darkly at the Headmaster, who smiled innocently.

"She is a very mature and intelligent young woman, quite singular really," the older man continued, "I believe we can expect great things from her. She was your best pupil, was she not, Severus?"

Snape growled an affirmation and stared at his plate. Dumbledore chuckled and regarded the younger man for a moment, before turning to speak to McGonagall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Rosaline sat on her bed in her graduation robe, brushing her hair, watching Anne, similarly clothed, bustle around. The families of the graduates were due to arrive soon, and Anne was nearly beside herself. She paused in front of her trunk mid-stride and looked down at it, displeased.

"D'you think I remembered everything?" Rosaline rolled her eyes.

"Annie, you've gone over the room with a fine-toothed comb. Thrice. You haven't forgotten anything."

Anne sighed and sat down beside Rosaline. "I'm just nervous, I guess. I mean, Hogwarts has been my life for 7 years. And now…I dunno," she trailed off.

"Annie, you've got nothing to worry about!" Rosaline exclaimed, "You're gonna be the best treasure hunter Gringotts ever had, and you know it."

Anne smiled weakly and half-nodded. "Yeah, I reckon you're right. It's just a…a little scary."

"Listen to me, you have _nothing to worry about," Rosaline said softly, before cracking a smile. "Just think, you'll never have to sit another exam again."_

Anne smiled gratefully. "Let's go down to the Great Hall," she chuckled, "they should all be arriving soon."

Rosaline smiled and followed her friend out the door.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Anne had been right – parents, siblings and friends had begun to trickle into the re-arranged Hall. The tables had been cleared away, and there were rows of chairs facing the dais upon which the staff table usually sat. On the platform were a few chairs off to one side, and a small table, holding the diplomas. As the two girls walked through the door, Anne gasped in delight and ran over to three people who could only be her family. Rosaline smiled and looked for her own parents.

A lilting feminine voice spoke behind her.

"Dia duit, a chroí."

"Dia is Muire duit." Rosaline responded delightedly as she turned around and hugged her mother, Ciara. The petite woman smiled at her and hugged her again.

"We've missed you, little one," her father, Sean, who had just wrapped his arms around the two women, murmured.

The family separated, and Rosaline beamed at her parents. Ciara smoothed her daughter's hair and took her hand.

"Let's go sit, and catch up, love." 

The family wandered over to a row of chairs and sat, chatting eagerly, waiting for the Graduation Ceremony to begin.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**_A/N: Heh…Dark Arts…Prof. [Hannibal] Lector. Sorry, couldn't resist ^_^_**

*I know that in all Rowling's books, exams are only an hour, but I figured that's only for the lower grades. At my high school, the younger kids only had 1.5 hour long exams, while the older students had 2 hours or more. Seemed like that sorta system would be appropriate at Hogwarts as well.

*Since there HAS to be some sort of prom and graduation, I added one. I'm sure other people have come up with this idea before, so if I'm stepping on any toes, please, tell me.

*I snicked "bint" from Veruka…hope she doesn't mind ^_^

**Impromptu Gaelic Lesson:**

Dia duit – Hello (lit: God to you)

Dia is Muire duit – Hello (response; lit: God and Mary to you.

a chroí – term of endearment, lit: my heart.

Thank you to all my reviewers! I really appreciate your feedback ^_^

**_Veruka_****_: I've been struggling to not make Snape a big sap. There're so many fics out there where he's a tormented soul (which I agree with) looking for someone to love him…something I'm not quite sure I accept._**

**_Mariposa: *acks and hides* Okay…'nother chapter. Don't hunt me down ^_^ Again, I like Snape better nasty than nice…heh heh. I'll try to keep that tension going in the next few chapters._**

**_Maggi_****_: Wow…thank you so much for the wonderful praise! I'll try to keep it up ^_^_**


	7. Last Dance

**_Disclaimer: Not making money from it, 'cause J.K. Rowling owns it. So nyah._**

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**_CHAPTER 7: LAST DANCE_**

The ceremony went smoothly. The graduates sat in alphabetical order in the first few rows of chairs. It was neither overly long nor tedious; Dumbledore spoke for a short time, warmly congratulating the students on their making it thus far, and wishing them every bit of luck in their up-coming careers. The students were then called up to receive their diplomas, a large piece of rolled parchment, the Hogwarts crest emblazoned upon the seal. 

Rosaline was one of the last to be called up. She smiled broadly as she took the diploma from the Headmaster who returned her smile warmly and shook her hand, his blue eyes twinkling down at her. She turned back to the audience and half-paused, caught off guard. Snape was standing at the doors of the Great Hall, off to her right, his black eyes on her. He turned on his heel a moment later and swooped through the doors, his cloak, as always, billowing behind him. Rosaline returned to her seat, shaken slightly. Her remaining classmates received their diplomas, and Dumbledore turned to the now-official graduates and their families. 

"Well, now that we have finished that necessity of administration, I propose we eat," the Headmaster said cheerfully. With a wave of his wand, a long table bearing many dishes heaped with food appeared along the far wall at the back of the Great Hall, as well as a number of tables and chairs, spread along the remaining two walls.

Dumbledore smiled broadly. "Please, help yourselves."

With a gentle roar of noise, the occupants of the Hall broke into conversation and movement.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The feast was essentially finished. Most people sat around the tables or stood in groups, chatting about their plans for the summer, how Hogwarts had differed in their day, or what they planned to do with the rest of their lives.

Rosaline sat with her parents, telling them about her desire to pursue a career in potions, in any aspect. Her father told her immediately he was behind her, no matter what she chose, while her mother seemed somewhat reluctant.

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, mo chroí?"

Rosaline nodded. "Yes Mum, I've wanted to do this for a while. Potions has always been my best subject, but more importantly, I love it."

"Well, it's your choice," her mother said slowly, "but I had always hoped you'd join the Ministry and become an Auror."

"Mum, I'll still join the Ministry. Just not as an Auror. I'm sure they can use a skilled Potions Master – which I intend to become," Rosaline said patiently. Her mother simply nodded.

The possibility of an argument was interrupted as Dumbledore, standing on the upraised dais at the front of the Great Hall, began to speak.

"It appears as though everyone has concluded their luncheon, so I shall take this time to again thank you all for attending, and to extend my invitation to the graduates to retire to their dormitories and prepare for the ball tonight – I'm sure they have much planning and primping to do," he said pleasantly, "To their families and friends who are travelling by portkey, we have made the necessary arrangements for you to return home. Professor McGonagall shall direct you to your point of departure."

The severe-looking woman stood and began to walk towards the doors of the Great Hall.

Rosaline hugged her parents and smiled. "I'll be home tomorrow – there're portkeys arranged for all of us."

The two elder Stauntons bade their daughter goodbye, her mother kissing her cheek, and left the Great Hall to head towards the barrier of Hogwarts, so they could apparate back to Ireland.

Anne walked over to Rosaline and grinned, slipping her arm through her friends. "C'mon Ros. We've got girly shit to do!"

With a laugh, Rosaline allowed herself to be led from the Hall.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Snape sat stiffly in his office, drumming his long fingers against the smooth dark surface of his desk. His black eyes rested on the cold, empty hearth to his right, but they did not see it. Instead they saw a slender young woman, with soft wavy brown hair and green eyes, clothed in the longer, more elegant graduation robe than those worn by students every day at Hogwarts.

_She's not your student anymore. The thought had returned with heavy artillery and paraded obstinately through his head. He attempted vainly to banished it with a low snarl. _

_'I'm old enough to be the girl's father,' he told himself, __'and whether or not she's my student, she is still a child. I may be some breed of monster, but I refuse to degrade myself by succumbing to this perverted lust.'_

_You don't know how old she is, the voice told him, __and besides, 16 is the age of consent._

Snape scowled, staring harder at the empty fireplace, as if to ignite it with his gaze.

"I. Will. Not. Yield." he hissed, hoping to silence the voice with venomous thoughts.

It did not work. Memories, coloured by lust, of her soft body pressed against his sprung, unbidden, to his mind. 

He ran a hand over his eyes wearily and shook his head. _'Fine, she's not a child, and she's no longer my student. And yes, I want to lock her in my bedchamber and keep her there forever. But she's still young and still naïve. And she probably has come to her bloody senses and realised how repulsive I am.'_

_What is she hasn't? the voice asked. Snape merely growled._

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Rosaline pushed her now gently curling hair back sideways off her face, and fixed it in place with a small silver pin, decorated simply, a small green leaf fashioned from an emerald glittering demurely on the end. Its mate was already occupied with holding back the soft curls above Rosaline's other temple. She stood still for a moment, looking herself over critically. Her pale green dress robes shimmered softly, a hint of a silver appearing when the light hit the material at a certain angle. As with most dress robes, Rosaline's bore a close resemblance to a muggle gown. The edging along the low, square neckline and wide, shoulder-covering straps was embroidered in delicate silver thread, the same thread which was stitched around the high, empire waistline, creating stylized leaves and vines. Her lashes were darkened and her eyes made up subtly with soft green hues.

"All in all, not too shabby," Rosaline murmured, before heading out of the bathroom. Anne was the only other one left in the room; she sat on her bed, dabbing her lips with pale pink gloss, which Rosaline snatched jokingly and applied to her own mouth. Anne grinned, resplendent in dark blue robes of some diaphanous, delicate material.

"I'd say we're ready to go – _most people would've arrived by now," Anne said pointedly, not so subtly indicating it was Rosaline's fault they were running late. Rosaline shot her friend an unimpressed look._

"And who was it who insisted she just _had to wash her hair again?"_

Anne rolled her eyes and conceded a grin. 'Okay, okay. Let's just get down there, alright? I don't want to have to viciously push too many girls out of my way to get a dance with Spimmel." Anne was referring to an alarmingly good-looking Ravenclaw, who also happened to be Head Boy, and single.

Rosaline rolled her eyes and grinned. "I swear to the Gods Annie, he's gay!" Anne stuck her tongue out at her friend, and pulled her out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Anne had been right – most of the graduates had already arrived, and were mingling in small groups or sitting at the tables spread around the edges of the Great Hall. The Hall itself was beautifully decorated – candles were floating in the air above the tables, but there were less of them than usual, and they appeared to give off some faint scent of flowers. Rosaline thought it might be lilac, and quickly banished the memories connected with that aroma.

Someone, most likely Professor Sprout, had conjured live roses and ivy along the walls of the Hall, the tendrils spreading across the surfaces like delicate fingers, the deep red blooms like rings. However, the most spectacular sight had to be the large glass ball suspended from many crossing vines above the center of the impromptu dance floor. Dozens of small, golden points of light danced within the opaque sphere, causing it to give off an inconstant but gentle glow. Rosaline watched it, enthralled with its beauty.

Anne tugged at the other girl, pulling her out of her reverie and towards a table seating a number of other Gryffindor graduates. They took their seats and began their last dinner as students under the enchanted ceiling, through which the full moon shone brightly amid the twinkling of stars.

The quiet conversations over dinner seemed somewhat subdued. Though pleased to be moving on with their lives, the young occupants of the tables were sad to leave the old castle which had been their home for the past seven years.

Rosaline, mid-way through the main course, risked a furtive glance at the staff table. Snape was not present, his seat glaringly empty among the smiling, chatting faces of the other professors. This reality left her feeling strangely disappointed, but Rosaline did not allow herself to dwell on it and instead turned to speak to Benjem, who had been shyly asking her what she planned to do now that they had graduated.

"I'm thinking about going into Potions research," she said.

"Potions?" Benjem asked, clearly surprised. "Why?"

"I've always rather liked it, and besides," she joked, "I'm not actually all that good at anything else."

Benjem chuckled, but his blue eyes still revealed disbelief. "You mean you actually enjoyed classes with that slimy git Snape?"

Rosaline forced a laugh and merely nodded trying hard to hide her blush.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The feast concluded, and with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore created a small platform in a previously empty corner of the Great Hall, piled high with odd-looking audio equipment. As quickly as it appeared, it began to emit music – songs which were regularly heard on the more popular radio programs on Wizard Wireless. Couples slowly headed out onto the dance floor, nervous to be the first.

Rosaline smiled as a tall Hufflepuff boy asked Anne to dance. She brushed off her friend's questioning look which clearly asked if it was alright if she left Rosaline on her own. Rosaline shooed her off and sat back, watching the dancers with pleasure.

Benjem tapped her shoulder, and she looked at him in surprise. He grinned and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her seat and onto the dance floor.

"Isn't it customary to ask your partner to dance before dragging them onto the floor?" Rosaline asked, amused, as she rested a hand on the tall boy's shoulder. Benjem grinned and put one hand on her hip, taking her free hand in his.

"Generally, yes. But I've never bothered much with tradition."

Rosaline laughed and allowed him to lead her off among the other couples.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Rosaline danced with a number of other boys, many from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, with a few Hufflepuffs thrown in for good measure. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing when, mid-way through the evening, Anne danced past her and her partner with Spimmel, the blond gazing adoringly into his eyes, while the slightly nervous young man looked down at her warily.

Midnight passed and the early morning came silently, yet still the music played on. No longer students, the graduates were now privy to new freedoms – including a far less staunch attention to curfews. The staff seemed to be enjoying themselves as well – there were more than a few grins exchanged at the sight of Dumbledore waltzing around the room with McGonagall. 

Rosaline sat on her own, feeling more than a little melancholy. She was deep in thought, and was shocked to realise she was wishing Snape was present. Shaking herself, she stood and quietly exited the Great Hall, gliding through the entrance hall and out onto the front lawn. Both sets of doors were open, and she could still hear the music playing softly. Standing on the front steps, Rosaline lost herself in the infinity above her, searching for constellations and planets.

A soft rustle behind her dragged Rosaline back to the terrestrial world. She turned her head to the side, and stilled her instinct to jump. The impenetrable wall of blackness remained where it was as Rosaline raised her eyes to Snape's face. Her looked down at her impassively, time slowing to a halt as their gazes locked. The music inside the Hall faded, and Dumbledore's voice drifted out to the duo's ears.

"As it has become inconveniently late, I fear I must draw this pleasant gathering to a close. There shall be one final dance, so I suggest you choose your partners wisely."

Rosaline could almost hear the twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes as he said the last sentence, and she wondered offhandedly if it was directed to her and the tall man standing behind her.

She turned slowly, and smiled faintly at Snape. To her surprise, he extended a hand.

"Would you care to dance, Miss Staunton?" he murmured, his voice strangely gentle.

Rosaline slipped her hand into his, surprised at it's softness, and stepped up to him, sliding her free arm up his chest to rest on his shoulder. Snape wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer yet. Rosaline gasped softly, earning a smirk from her partner who dug his fingers into the small of her back that much harder. Responding in kind, Rosaline wrapped her arm around his neck, unwilling to back down from this challenge. Snape stared at her searchingly, a glitter of amusement in the black depths of his eyes, before he lead her in a slow, intimate waltz across the lawn. Rosaline found herself captivated by his gaze, unable to look away. She looked up at him helplessly, going through the motions of the dance, following his lead. A shiver of lust ran through her, and she tore her eyes away, pressing her face into his chest so he could not see.

They had danced away from the doors, across the lawns, neither noticing or caring that they could no longer hear the music. Rosaline inhaled deeply, breathing in Snape's scent. The tall man looked down at the top of her head and sighed inaudibly, mustering his composure.

"Miss Staunton, you should go to bed."

The girl started and looked up at him, mild displeasure on her features. "I don't want to, Professor." 

Snape frowned. "Don't be difficult, child," he snapped, releasing her from his arms.

Rosaline narrowed her eyes and pressed her body closer to his. "I'm not a child, Professor. I'm 18, and on top of that I am no longer a student under your care. So don't treat me as though I were an ignorant first year with a schoolgirl crush!"

Rosaline snapped her mouth shut, as surprised as Snape appeared to be at her daring. His black eyes flickered with uncertainty for a moment, before the hardness of resolve froze within them, not without a sadistic glint.

"Yes," he murmured, bending his head down towards her, till his warm breath tickled her face, "you're quite right. However, I'm not wholly convinced that you are ready for what you seem to want."

Rosaline's eyes widened and she tightened her grip about his shoulders. "I'm not as innocent as you seem to believe," she whispered, trying to sound brave.

Snape merely smirked, and without warning, captured her mouth in a searing, passionate kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**_A/N: Muahaha! Cliff-hanger. ^_^ _**

*I have a request to my readers – as I don't have a beta, I really don't have anyone to bounce ideas off of. So the reviewers will have to give me some of their opinions. Do you all think it'd be overly presumptuous if Snape and Rosaline were to...ahem…consummate their relationship? I'm a bit torn on whether Snape would do something like that. Anyways, tell me what you think through a review, or email me: jet_girl99@hotmail.com I greatly appreciate any feedback ^_^

**_Keket: I wasn't aware of that fact about graduations. It's somewhat necessary to my plot-line that a graduation ball exist, so a graduation might as well be present. Thanks for the warning though._**

Thank you to everyone who submitted a review! I really love to hear feedback from you guys ^_^


	8. Hands Washed Clean

**_Disclaimer: Don't own anything from Harry Potter, and am certainly not making money off this story. Don't sue!_**

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_And I would be the one to hold you down  
Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away,  
And after I'd wipe away the tears  
Just close your eyes dear…'_

_            -Sarah McLachlan, Possession_

**_CHAPTER 8: HANDS WASHED CLEAN_**

Rosaline froze as Snape pressed his lips against hers, caught utterly off guard. Slowly coming to terms with reality, she tightened her arms around his neck, pulling him down further, deepening the kiss. Snape growled softly into mouth and wrapped his arms around her, his long fingers splayed across her back possessively. 

As quickly as it had begun, it was over – Snape pulled away. Rosaline opened her eyes, questions dancing in their depths. The older man looked down at her, traces of amusement and lust playing across his features. He sighed and Rosaline was shocked to see a spark melancholy flash across his eyes.

He gently disentangled himself from her arms and took a step back, feeling distance was necessary. Rosaline watched him, frustration and confusion visible in her face.

"Miss Staunton," he said softly, without the usual malice, "it is time for you to go to bed."

The girl looked at him, dumbstruck. How could he _do this to her? How __dare he taunt her like that? Her expression darkened with anger and pain._

"Why are you like this?" she exclaimed. "Why are you playing these games with me? Does it amuse you to know you can do this to me? Do you make a habit of tormenting girls like this?"

"No, Miss Staunton, I do not derive amusement from this complicated mess of a situation. I apologize for my behaviour, it has been utterly inappropriate, and I can assure you, nothing like this has occurred before." Snape's face was an impenetrable mask, but his voice betrayed bitterness, hints of spite creeping into his tone. "I am not quite that depraved."

Rosaline shook her head and stumbled away from him. She turned and began to run, eager to be anywhere other than here, as long as it was far from Snape. She had fought valiantly to hold back the sobs which threatened to rise from her throat while standing before him, but now that she was escaping her composure cracked, and a moaning cry crept from her throat. One small, still-rational corner of her brain wondered why she was so upset, but it was drowned out.

She did not make it more than 10 feet when Snape over-took her, his long arms wrapping around her waist and effectively preventing her escape. Rosaline screamed with rage and flailed, striking out at the tall man blindly, her eyes too full of hot angry tears to allow sight.

Snape stood, immobile, holding the frantic girl until her fury burnt out and she leaned weakly against him, barely moving. He hesitantly raised a hand to her head, and stroked the soft curls soothingly. He could feel her pulse pounding against his chest where she pressed against him, her heart beating like a frantic bird within the cage of her ribs.

They stood this way, silently, for immeasurable minutes. Snape spoke first.

"I suppose it would be too much to ask that you understand why I cannot do this." 

Rosaline neither answered nor moved. Snape would not have been sure of her consciousness, were it not for the rapid cadence of her heart against his chest.

"I am going to release you in a moment, and then I am going to go into the school and never speak of this to anyone. I would caution you to do the same – for your own safety as much as mine."

Rosaline stilled her urge to flinch, but Snape felt it nevertheless.

"Though you are no longer technically a child, you are still innocent and naïve. You have much to learn of the world, Miss Staunton. Perhaps once you have existed in it as an adult, you will understand the consequences of this interlude, and understand," he murmured this last sentence with melancholy, the rumour of a sigh hidden in his silken voice. "And now, Rosaline, I bid you goodnight, and farewell."

He was gone. Rosaline kept her eyes closed, unwilling to tempt fate into allowing her one last, and inevitably fatal, glance at the man. Minutes passed, stretching out painfully, and still she kept herself blind, barely daring to breath, listening hard for any sort of noise to give him away.

There was total silence.

Finally Rosaline opened her eyes. She was quite alone in the dark – the moon had long since set. With careful, measured steps, Rosaline walked back towards the main entrance of Hogwarts.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Rosaline sat on the nearly empty bus, dressed in muggle clothes, and stared out the window. She was back in Ireland, travelling from Dublin, where the portkey for her and a handful of other students had arrived. Knowing her parents would be unable to pick her up in advance, Rosaline had been sure to procure some muggle money so as to buy a bus ticket to Kells – a town larger than Clonmellon, and therefore deserving of a bus station. From there, it would be a short jaunt on her broom.

Anne had been worried at Rosaline's appearance in the morning when they had all been preparing to leave. Rosaline had forced a smile and lied to her, unwilling to impose her misery on her friend. She still doubted Anne had believed her though – the blonde knew her too well. Escape from too many uncomfortable questions had been attained with departure. Rosaline had promised to owl Anne, hugged her tightly, and run off to catch her portkey before the other girl could open her mouth.

Rosaline had not had a chance to be truly alone since she had returned to her dorm the previous night. Now, sitting on this bus, she tentatively began to untangle her emotions concerning the events of the year in regards to the Potions professor. 

She sat, barely moving, until the bus reached its destination. She lugged her belongings off the bus and out of the station, turning into the first alleyway she could find, where she promptly charmed her trunk to shrink to the size of an over-large matchbook and slid it into a pocket. Holding her broom casually, hoping to not run into too many muggles, Rosaline headed off towards the outskirts of the town, feeling the need for a good long walk.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The cool evening wind pushed Rosaline's hair out behind her in streaming ribbons. She had cast a cloaking charm on herself and her broom after she had walked beyond the last row of houses and taken to the air. Following the winding stretch of road far below her, Rosaline turned towards home.

She had been trying, with little success, to dissect the complicated feelings and thoughts which filled her head. Rosaline was young, and had had little experience with these sorts of sentiments – it galled her that Snape had been right in that estimation. She knew that she felt some strange longing for his body, his mind. The dull ache of rejection did not worry her – she understood it was normal, and inevitable. It was the sharp, pressing pain that stabbed when she remembered the softness of his voice in those last few moments the previous night. It confused and scared her. Her only recourse was to bury the memories and feelings, and concentrate on the life ahead of her.

_'I'll apply to the Ministry,' she told herself, __'and I'll forget all about that bastard'_

As simple as it sounded, Rosaline couldn't help but wonder if it would be that easy. She clenched her jaw, and fixed her sights on the future. 

She even managed to convince herself that the tears which leaked from her eyes were from the wind, and nothing more.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Snape sat in his chambers, in front of the dancing flames within the hearth. His face was the usual expressionless mask, but his eyes glittered strangely. To the casual observer, they would have appeared deeply disconcerting, if not frightening, solely because of the intensity of emotion within those two black pits.

On the small table beside his chair sat a silver hairpin. The small, leaf-shaped emerald on its end glittered in the firelight.

Slowly, Snape extended his hand over top of the table and covered the trinket from view, his fingers curling around it possessively.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

**_A/N: Well kids, that's it…for now. I've had a great (and hectic) time writing this, and it's just the tip of the iceberg. I'm going to start on the second part of Rosaline & Snape's story relatively soon, I'm not sure when though. It probably won't come together as quickly as this one did though – I need time to work out the storyline before I begin writing._**

*After thinking about the Snape's nature and persona, it just didn't jell that he would willingly sleep with an 18 year old girl, who was his student mere days before. On top of that, Rosaline is still too young, too naïve. Though she does see the darkness in him, she doesn't quite know what to make of it just yet – all she knows is that it attracts her. She needs to do some growing up before she can truly understand what it means to want Severus Snape – which is exactly what he told her. Thank you to everyone who gave me their feedback on how the story should proceed – it was a great help =)

*Thank you again to everyone who bothered to read this silly little fic, and an extra-special thanks to those of you who took the time to review and tell me what you thought. It was really encouraging. ^_^


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